


Down but Never Out

by coolbreeze1



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Atlantis, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbreeze1/pseuds/coolbreeze1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even on the ground and injured, Sheppard still takes care of his people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down but Never Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the comment fic exchange over at sheppard_hc (September 2010)

John came to quickly, remembering instantly the chaos that had descended on the gate room as Lieutenant Parker’s team had returned home through the gate. Well, not Parker’s team. A group of men dressed in Parker and his team’s uniforms who came through the gate shooting. John had been talking with Beckett, walking idly toward the control room at the top of the stairs when all hell had broken lose.

“What…?” he asked. He tensed, trying to sit up, then froze when pain exploded in every part of his body.

“Don’t move, John.”

Beckett was suddenly there, bending over him and holding his head still. John sucked in a ragged breath, feeling tears well up at the ragged pain coursing through him.

“Breathe through it,” the doctor soothed. “Slowly now.”

John blinked, focusing all of his attention on pushing the pain to the back of his mind. Beckett shifted, turning to talk to someone just out of John’s sight.

“We’ve got seriously injured people here,” he snapped. “Please, at least let me take the most serious to the infirmary.”

“No one moves,” a man yelled back. There was a thud of a boot hitting flesh, then a yelp of pain. Beckett tensed, staring at whoever their hostage taker had just kicked, but he stayed next to John. His face grew red with anger and helplessness.

A door slid shut, and John realized they were in one of the large empty rooms off the main hall from the gate room that they used for larger meetings or gatherings. It was crowded now with people, although John couldn’t move his head to see who was in here with him. Beckett was still holding it firmly in place.

The pain finally dialed to a more manageable level, and John tried to take stock of his body. His feet were elevated, and his left foot was raw spiking agony every time his heart beat. His right arm was just a little less painful, and he didn’t dare move it. Something soft was wrapped around his neck, and his head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

“Doc?” he whispered.

Beckett looked down at him, concern etched into his face. “How are you doing, John?”

“Been better.”

“Aye,” he nodded. “Sorry I can’t do more for you right now.”

“That’s okay,” John replied. “What’s the situation?”

“Those bastards started shooting as soon as they walked through the gate. You were shot in the foot, then took a tumble down the stairs. You’ve got a broken arm and a concussion, on top of the gunshot wound. Maybe more.”

“I meant, the situation with Atlantis.”

“Oh. About a dozen men swarmed through the gate, four of them wearing our uniforms and carrying our weapons. They locked everyone in the immediate area in this room and took all of our radios.”

“Great,” John whispered.

Beckett nodded, then leaned down, lowering his voice. “You took quite a fall down the stairs, and those men weren’t exactly gentle in moving you to this room. John, I have to ask—have you got any feeling in your legs?”

“Oh, yeah,” John hissed, inadvertently twitching his left foot. “Kind of wish I had a little less feeling at the moment.”

Beckett blew out his breath in relief. “Thank God. The way you fell—I though you might have broken your neck or your back.”

“Back feels okay. Foot and arm, not so much. And head—head hurts.”

“Try to stay as still as possible. I’m afraid my jacket was the closest thing I could muster as a temporary C-collar, but it won’t do much if you start moving around. The bleeding in your foot has slowed, but you’ll need surgery for that, and I don’t dare set your arm until I’ve gotten you under a scanner and know—”

“Carson,” John said, cutting him off. “It’s okay. You’re doing the best you can.”

Beckett shook his head in disgust. “It’s not enough. We’ve got four other people in here with serious wounds, a half dozen more with minor injuries. I have no idea what’s going on in the rest of Atlantis, either.”

“Time to end this party,” John quipped. He reached for the side pocket on his pants but froze when the small movement caused a ripcord of pain to shoot through him.

“Ach, I told ya not to move,” Beckett snapped, his accent growing thicker. John knew from past experience that that was a sure sign the doctor was at the heights of anxiety—and between all the injured, being held hostage in a locked room, and no end in sight to the current crisis, he could certainly understand it.

“Pocket,” John hissed. “Lifesigns detector.”

Beckett fished it out of his pocket, then held it up for John. The screen glowed brightly at his touch, and John smiled. There were too many dots to count all stuck in the room, and a handful of other ones roaming the hall outside. John reached up with this left hand and depressed a small button the side, smiling again when the screen shifted to a new view.

“Alright, doc, this is what I’m going to need you to do.”

It took thirty minutes of careful instructions from John before Beckett managed to make the required modifications to the lifesigns detector. By that time, they’d attracted the rest of the gate room personnel. John could feel their eyes on him, waiting for him to come up with a plan to get them out of this situation, despite the fact that he was laid up on the floor and could hardly move.

The longer he was awake, the more intense the pain was getting as well. Beckett had noticed, making small tutting noises as he stopped working on the Ancient device to check John’s vitals. John frowned and would have knocked his hands away if he’d had any energy to do so. He sent two of the gate room technicians still on their feet to the door to start working on the override instead, then ordered everyone else to move as far away from that side of the room as possible. When his modifications were complete, he switched the device’s screen back to detecting life signs.

Just in time. A group of four were moving toward the door. The dot roaming the hallway reversed his direction and began walking toward the group.

“This is it,” John said. “Everyone ready?” He heard a rumble of agreement and wished he could look everyone in the eye. Or at the very least sit up. What they were about to attempt was dangerous and could backfire on them badly.

“You’ve got about 10 seconds before this thing blows up after you punch this button,” John said to Beckett. The doctor looked pale but he nodded, taking the lifesigns detector from him with a steady grip. “Those guys are almost at the door now, so move fast.”

Beckett scrambled to his feet, and John closed his eyes as the pain he’d been fight back suddenly crested and threatened to overwhelm him. _Not yet. They weren’t done yet._ He heard mumbled voices as everyone got into position, sparks as the door lock was overridden, then a cry of surprise as it slid open. He tensed, waiting for the explosion, not knowing exactly when it would go off but trying to—

The sound was louder than he expected, an explosive thunder clap followed by shouts of surprise and pain. John tried to turn his head toward the fight, but stiffened in pain at the attempt. He could hear the fight—fists and kicks pummeling against flesh, bodies slamming into walls and floors, grunts of pain and exertion.

A hand on his shoulder jerked him back to awareness. He opened his eyes to see Beckett leaning over him, smiling and breathing hard.

“It worked, Colonel! The Marines disarmed them and are taking back control of the gate room. We’ll have you safely in the infirmary pumped full of painkillers in no time.”

John smiled, exhausted but wanting to share in Beckett’s exhilaration at the successful fight. He felt himself passing out as the anxiety and tenseness over their situation eked out of him. He grabbed onto Carson hand and squeezed, relaxing when Carson started shouting out orders to get the wounded to the infirmary.

He would celebrate victory later. Right now, he was checking out.

END


End file.
